


If you can’t get yourself a millionaire, the next best choice is a public servant

by hikachu



Category: Gintama
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 11:07:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9721466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hikachu/pseuds/hikachu
Summary: Battle to the death! The ultimate showdown of blazing souls: the Vegeta-like Demon Vice Commander versus Valentine's Day!





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [diopan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/diopan/gifts).



> For my cutest: happy Valentine's Day!!!

Toshiro Hijikata is a busy man. A grown man with a job that comes with endless responsibilities, countless risks, many incompetent subordinates and a superior that needs supervision.

Surely, a productive member of society should not have to awkwardly stand at the entrance of the local middle school like it’s the result of some juvenile bet he lost, while the steadily assembling crowd of housewives and grandparents come to pick up their children glares at him like he’s some kind of ill-intentioned weirdo.

Perhaps, as a public servant, he should be happy to see such a tight-knit community looking out for kids not their own as well; perhaps he would, if he hadn’t been cursed with a rather short temper and if the cause behind his current predicament were not an irresponsible, lazy, penniless NEET, too busy with only god knew what kind of (irrelevant at best, sordid at worst) business to pick up his charge from school.

How Gintoki Sakata had been deemed fit to be young Kagura’s temporary guardian was a mystery.

How he managed to win over the same crowd of mistrustful relatives that seems ready to lynch well-groomed, serious Hijikata should he as much as breathe the wrong way, was another. On his best days, Gintoki looks like he just got up from a several hour-long nap, what with his eternally crumpled clothing, wild hair and absent, dead fish-like eyes: the very image of a leech who’s never had his life together, indeed.

Well well well, says a smug voice that sounds too much like Gintoki when he knows he’s won an argument, if poor ol’ Gin-chan is so undesirable, how come only the other day you were asking so cutely that he xxx your xxx? Not to mention--

“Shut up you damn lecher!”

It’s only Kagura’s arrival that saves Hijikata from the cane of an elderly citizen, clearly alarmed before the spectacle of the already suspicious stranger talking to himself.

“Toshi here is a good friend of Gin-chan’s,” she explains with a sigh, like she’s the adult in charge, here. “As you can see, he’s a bit of a ditz, so if you hit him ‘n’ ruin his pretty face, he won’t really have much else goin’ for him.”

The old man nods, congratulates Kagura for being such a mature young lady, and sends them off with a _you take care of him, and send my regards to Gin-san_. All of which makes Hijikata’s blood boil.

“I appreciate that you came all the way out here, Toshi,” says Kagura, after her school bag, complete with a multitude of colorful charms, has been dropped between his arms (what do they even make textbooks out of nowadays, rocks?) and the trek home started. “I really do, but if ya show up at school in that sleek suit of yours people are gonna assume you’re some kinda host or shady character, and sweet Kagura-chan can’t always be there to save you, capisci?”

Hijikata rubs a hand over his face. This can’t really be happening, except it is, because Gintoki Sakata’s evil influence has taken a hold of this young child’s soul since a long time ago.

“It’s my regular suit. I just got off my shift at work.”

“Oh. Well, I can see now what Gin-chan means when he says that naturally good looking people are cursed. Thought he was just tryina feel better about himself.”

Through gritted teeth, Hijikata asks: “What the hell did he even have to do that was so important, anyway?”

“Handmade chocolate.”

“Excuse me?”

“Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day and I’ve decided to capitalize on my womanly charms for a bountiful White Day! I’ll give each boy in my class a piece of precious handmade chocolate, and they will simply have to return it twofold next month! Of course, I’ve had to promise to clean the bathroom for the next six weeks, but I can always get Shin-chan to do it for me.”

Hijikata shudders at the perspective of what this kid will turn into, ten years from now.

“What’s with that face, Mayora? Even if Gin-chan’s an old man, his cooking is pretty good. Cakes and pastries especially. He just can’t afford all the ingredients for the real fancy stuff too often.”

“Uh, I, I was just surprised’s all.”

“Hmm. I was too, at first. Gin-chan doesn’t look much like the domestic kind of guy, does he? Zura said their teacher taught them.”

Ah, the teacher. Gintoki’s teacher. Hijikata has seen some pictures, on accident. It’s not that Gintoki hides them, but he’s not exactly putting them on display either, and that tells him that it’s a subject best left alone until Gintoki himself decides that that’s not the case anymore.

It’s weird to think that Gintoki of all people used to have parents, or some sort of father figure; that he used to be a child. Then again, that’s probably how his subordinates feel about the Demon Vice Commander, too. Hijikata remembers the round face and fluffy hair, the disinterested yet mischievous eyes looking back at him from the faded pictures, and something tender stirs inside his chest.

“I think Gin-chan found my clever plan inspiring anyway, ‘cause I’m pretty sure he’s makin’ some for you too--he _does_ say that if you can’t get yourself a millionaire, the next best choice is a public servant, since you guys get a decent salary and a good retirement plan, even if all you do is leech off us hard working citizens.”

The nameless, tender feeling in Hijikata’s chest does die at that, but in a rather shameful turn of events, something that dangerously resembles anticipation takes its place, and out of all the things Toshiro Hijikata could have have said to either vent out his frustration or correct young Kagura’s rather twisted worldview, the only word that makes it past his lips is a strained, what.

“Gin-chan said,” and here goes an impressively accurate imitation of Gintoki’s jaded tone, “that guy’s totally the Vegeta-like type, anyway. Can’t expect them to make the first move, especially not on Valentine’s: their pride is huge and their ego ridiculously fragile--what if one of their buddies at work laughs at them for giving out chocolate _like a woman_? Can’t have that! Why do you think Vegeta continued to pursue his stupid, one-sided feud with Goku? Because making sure that his metaphorical _what-what_ stayed the biggest in town was more important than not being a fricking deadbeat dad!”

Hijikata can’t help the overwhelming embarrassment that washes over him: Vegeta had always been his favorite. Plus, for some reason he does not care to understand or analyze any further, the rant has him feeling like someone just stripped him naked and forced him to walk home like that.

“Gin-chan said I should never waste my time on someone like that and old woman Otose agreed and she never agrees with Gin-chan,” Kagura adds in a somewhat soft tone that’s very unusual for her. Somehow, it feels like a stab in the heart for Hijikata. “I’m sure,” she says, “that mom used to tell me something like that too, before she died.” Another stab. Kagura smiles. It’s her usual smile.

Hijikata pats her head.

“Let’s go home,” he says without looking back at her.

 

“Ohh, Hijikata-kun. Many thanks for bringing the precious, only daughter of this house back to us safely. I would very much like to invite you in for some tea, but as you can see,” Gintoki gestures to the chocolate stained apron tied around his waist, “I’m rather busy.”

Hijikata frowns. “It’s not like I came here because I wanted to have tea with you.” All he wants, right now, is to simply get in. Preferably before one of the neighbors sees him standing there.

“Rude as always, aren’t we. If poor ol’ Gin-chan is so undesirable, how come only the other day you were asking so cutely that he xxx your xxx? Not to mention--”

Hijikata screams.

“What the hell? There are children in your apartment!”

“Kagura-chan is washing off every and any dangerous germs that may have come in contact with her fair hands at school, in the bathroom down the hallway, like a proper young lady.” Gintoki smiles sweetly. “Hijikata-kun, I don’t know if yours is simply a bad case of tsundere bad boy syndrome or if you’ve got some kind of weird fetish that pushes you to pursue poor Gin-chan in spite of your poor opinion of him, but I really got no time for this today, so excuse me.”

“Wait, wait, wait!”

Toshiro Hijikata isn’t a religious man, has never even been slightly interested in the spiritual side of things, all the same, he thinks it’s honestly nothing short of a miracle when Gintoki lets go of the handle before the door can crush the white patisserie box he’s holding up.

He thinks, also, that the expression of surprise Gintoki is wearing right now is not one he has seen before. Somehow, the thought makes him flush. Just a little. Gintoki is merciful or stunned enough not to comment on it, at least.

“Oi, oi. This is serious.”

Under different circumstances, Hijikata would probably reply with something along the lines of: when has strawberry shortcake _not_ been serious for you, is there anything else that is serious to you anyway. Different circumstances, where Gintoki reaches out for the box with his grabby hands and says something stupid, and does not look away, then down, scratching his cheek like he’s at a loss for words and then turns around like he doesn’t want Hijikata to get a good look at his face.

“Ah, well, I figure you can make tea yourself while I finish this batch of chocolates,” he mutters. “Come in,” he says, and Hijikata does.

It’s not chocolate, and it’s not Valentine’s Day, and maybe Hijikata, being the Vegeta-like type and all, is simply not ready for that yet, but well, they figure, it is a start.


End file.
